


The Funeral

by Twyd



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Complicated Relationships, Death, Disability, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Implied Slash, M/M, Post-Canon, Slash, Wheelchairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 20:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15670803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: Post-canon. Izaya returns for Shinra's funeral.





	The Funeral

It is raining. Shizuo has ducked into a flower shop, of all places, for shelter. He tries to examine the bouquets dutifully, pretend-customer that he is, but it is too depressing and he turns away. The florist has apparently sussed him out anyway and leaves him be. Shizuo stares out the window instead, squinting into the torrent, trying to gauge if it had lessened enough for him to make a run for it. 

He is facing Ikebukuro station, the east side. The usual crowds are deserted, the odd group or lone man jogging across with a newspaper held over their heads. Shizuo watches impassively as a lone man approaches from the station steps. He has his hood up before he even steps out in the rain. He appears to be unsteady on his feet, although Shizuo can tell, even at this distance, that he is young. He has a small pull-along suitcase in one hand. Shizuo stiffens as he realises. 

Before he’s aware of it, the shop bell rings over his head as he exits the florists. The rain drips from his hair inside his sunglasses, though it is waning now. His heart seems to jam as he gets closer. Izaya sees him and goes still. He makes no move towards hostility, and he doesn’t lower his hood. The rain eases to barely a patter. When Shizuo reaches him, Izaya lowers his hood with both hands. Exactly the same. He might as well be a ghost. They stare at each other in silence.

None of Ikebukuro’s residents seem to recognise them or the significance of this moment, or if they do they’re too wet to care. 

“I’m here for the funeral,” Izaya’s voice comes, clear and expressionless and familiar. “Then I’ll go.”

Shizuo feels himself nodding.

“...sure.”

This is his chance, this is where he has to say something. But nothing comes. Izaya gives up and steps round him to hail a cab, not quite limping but awkward on his feet. Shizuo watches helplessly as the driver takes the suitcase to the trunk, as Izaya folds himself into the car, and they are driving away into the night. 

-

Celty has disappeared since Shinra’s death and won’t answer his texts. Shizuo doubts she will be at the funeral, thinks she’d rather grieve in her own way. Shinra’s father will be at the funeral, and the helmet would look disrespectful to those who didn’t know her. At first, Shizuo had thought she just needed some time, but now he has a feeling she may never come back. He misses her. He talks to Tom and his brother about Izaya, but it’s not the same. Shinra was the one who really understood Izaya, and Celty was the one who really understood Shizuo. So where did that leave them? With all of them gone - Izaya only temporarily returned - Shizuo feels like he’s missing critical pieces of himself. 

For no reason whatsoever, Shizuo goes to Izaya’s old apartment in Shinjuku. The building is still there of course, but the whole building appears to be offices now, Izaya’s home converted with it. 

A perplexed looking man comes to the reception area that was once Izaya’s hallway.

“Eiko Associates,” he says, as if he’s answered the phone. He looks suspicious. Shizuo wonders if they are an underground operation. He wouldn’t be surprised. 

“I’m looking for Orihara Izaya, he used to rent this place a couple of years ago?”

“Oh, yes. He didn’t leave an address.”

That was that then. Izaya was either in a hotel or his old family home with his sisters. He doubts Kadota or Simon would put him up even if he asked. Shizuo’s on a roll now, so he decides he might as well go to the Oriharas. He remembers the way and the house, even though he hadn’t been there since he was 15 years old, when he’d been dragged by his mother and both their parents had forced them to apologise. They could have moved. He’ll just have to leave it up to fate.

The mailbox still has Orihara on it. Shizuo swallows. He suddenly hopes it is just the twins at home. Although they had been noticably colder towards him since the fight. Shizuo had been sad at first and then sort of relieved. Seeing them reminded him of Izaya, and it was good to know they didn’t completely hate their ni-san as much as they made out. 

Whoever is home takes a long time answering the door. Just as Shizuo realises Izaya would take a long time on his damaged legs, the door opens and it is Izaya. He is barefoot, in a pair of soft trousers and a v neck t-shirt. He blinks at Shizuo.

“Are you here to see my sisters?” he says uncertainly. 

“No.”

Izaya raises his eyebrows. Shizuo thinks he might shut the door, but he only opens it wider to let Shizuo pass. The house is the same, more or less. Same pictures in the hallway, different shoes on the rack. Izaya takes him through to the front room and gestures for him to sit. There is a waiting laptop on the coffee table.

“I’ll make some tea,” he says. 

The house is quiet save for Izaya in the kitchen. Perhaps the twins are out, or asleep. 

“How are your sisters?” Shizuo blurts, when Izaya brings him his tea.

Izaya frowns. “You’re the one who still lives here, aren’t you?”

“I don’t see them so much these days.”

Izaya shrugs. “They’re all right. They’re growing up, i guess. They’ve just had their finals so they’re pretty burnt out. That’s why they’re in bed.”

Izaya watches him when he’s finished speaking. He makes no attempt at further conversation. Shizuo holds his cup in both hands, trying to calm himself with it.

“Celty left when Shinra died,” Shizuo tells him. “I can’t get hold of her at all.”

“I heard,” Izaya says. “Maybe she’s just avoiding his old man.”

“Maybe, but she’d still answer her messages.”

“True.”

Shizuo looks at Izaya uncertainly.

“I don’t suppose you could trace her?”

Izaya smiles for the first time.

“If she were human, almost definitely. But Celty? She could be on the other side of the world by now. She could be in another world all together.”

The thought is depressing.

“She probably wants to be alone for a bit,” Izaya offers.

Footfalls come from above them, Izaya’s sisters getting ready. Izaya glances at the ceiling and gets up.

“I’ll let them know we have company. Sometimes they still wander round in their Hello Kitty nighties.”

Shizuo goes to tell him not to bother, but it’s such an effort for Izaya to have stood up that it seems a shame to tell him to sit down again. He looks around furtively, but can’t see any sign of a wheelchair or even crutches. 

Mairu comes back in place of Izaya, dressed but with her long hair still flowing. 

“Shizuo! It’s so good to see you,” she says, with real warmth. She gives him a hug as if he were the long lost brother. Kururi follows shortly after with her brother, and gives Shizuo a slightly more reserved hug. 

They chatter and make toast while Izaya returns to his laptop, leaving the conversation to them. Shizuo sends a few looks his way, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His sisters do though, and give him an understanding smile before taking their toast back to their own room. Izaya looks up reluctantly. 

“Have you been to Russia Sushi?” Shizuo asks him.

“Last night.”

Late, probably, in the rain with no-one around. Shizuo pictures them speaking Russian, Simon spoiling him with food. 

“Have you seen Shinra’s dad?” Shizuo tries now.

“I called him,” he says. He looks at his watch. “I hate to be rude, but I have to go out soon.”

“Can I use the bathroom?”

“Sure. Remember where it is?”

He does, although the smell of the twins’ hairspray helps. It’s as if he were there yesterday. It is in the hallway that Shizuo sees the chair. It looks brand new and gleaming, menacing, more a weapon than a cripple’s aid. It is covered with buttons and gadgets. Knowing Izaya, it probably has knives installed. Shizuo smiles at the thought, but something squeezes past his eyes at the same time. He goes into the bathroom to get away from the thing. 

-

Izaya’s appointment is with Shiki. Izaya had written him a week back requesting permission to return to Ikebukuro for the funeral, a request he knew he’d be granted, but he can’t be bothered creating a stir. Shiki had called him. He seemed grudgingly impressed with Izaya’s activities in Kanto, starting over from scratch, and in a wheelchair at that. Kine had obviously helped, and offered protection, but Izaya didn’t need much of either.

So Shiki invites him to lunch, wherever he’d like, obviously sussing that it would have to be somewhere wheelchair accessible. 

Izaya chooses a cosy restaurant not far from his home, with dark curtains instead of a door, warm and sizzling smells. There are schoolgirls at the other tables, eating pancakes and playing cards. Shiki spots Izaya at the back and goes to join him.

Izaya smiles-smirks up at him. Some things never change.

“Shiki-san.”

 

Shiki wants to tell him not to get up, but it is too late. They exchange bows and sit.

“You look well,” Shiki says, and means it. Izaya hasn’t aged a day. If it weren’t for the air of sadness he carried, he wouldn’t be any different at all. 

“Thanks. All that sea air does me good.”

Shiki smiles thinly. He doesn’t want to discuss Izaya’s activities just yet. This is a personal lunch, after all. Shiki had liked Shinra. 

“And how is Kine?” Shiki asks perfunctionarily.

“Very well. The sea air does him good too,” Izaya says, grinning cheekily. His old habit of making an innocent comment seem insolent is still intact. Shiki shouldn’t find it endearing. He’s insolent, but his eyes are very red. The funeral will be hard on him. “How’s business?” Izaya asks him.

“Same as ever, more or less. Perhaps you’ve been keeping up with it?”

“Nope. Nothing in Ikebukuro.” He pauses. ‘I heard Celty’s gone though.”

“Yes,” Shiki sighs. “A shame.”

The waiter comes to take their order. 

They drink to Shinra, and, for all his bravado, Shiki sees Izaya has to hide his eyes. 

“How do you plan on avoiding Heiwajima?” Shiki asks him. “You know he’ll be at the funeral.”

“Are you offering protection?” he chuckles. “Not that there’s any need. Shizu-chan will make allowances for my presence for Shinra’s funeral. I’ve already run into him twice with no dramas.”

They talk some more about Shinra, about Ikebukuro, about Izaya’s new ventures. 

“I needed a fresh start,” Izaya shrugs modestly when Shiki praises him. “I suppose it’s done me good.”

“I wonder if it’s made you grow up at all.”

“Definitely,” Izaya smirks, pretending to flick food at him. His eyes are older though, sadder in a way that’s more permanent than just grief, and Shiki doesn’t know what to think. 

“You’re still freelancing?” Shiki asks him. "You're not tied to anyone in Kanto?"

“Of course not.”

“...we may still have a place for you if you want it.”

“Missing me, Shiki-san?”

“A mutually beneficial offer. Think about it. You can stay where you are and still have ties here.”

“Oh, I’ll always have ties here,” Izaya says carelessly. “I'll think about it. I appreciate the offer. But my mind’s not in the right place for business right now.”

“Of course.”

-

Izaya avoids Shizuo at the funeral. People leave them alone too, after their initial stares and whispers, after it becomes clear that Shizuo won’t throw the coffin in Izaya’s direction. Izaya stays by Kadota’s side and stays out of Shizuo’s way, head down. Shizuo forgets about him and grieves for both his friends.

-

Shizuo goes back to the Oriharas the night after the funeral. He has to be quick in case Izaya leaves quickly. He can’t bring himself to just phone. Izaya is even longer coming to the door this time, his jaw wired in a way that suggests he’s in pain.

“Are you- ?”

“Sad?” Izaya cuts him off. “Yep, i’m pretty sad. You look pretty sad too. You might as well come in and we can be sad together.”

He limps away from the door as he speaks, leaving it open and no room to argue. Shizuo wonders if he’d been drinking. He follows Izaya into the front room, where the wheelchair gleams with power.

“Mairu and Kururi home?”

Izaya shakes his head.

“They’re visiting colleges outside of Tokyo.”

“You’re not going with them?”

“I went for the first round. They want to go back to their favourites on their own.”

“Together?”

“Nope. They’re finally taking the plunge. It’d drive them crazy if they didn’t. Drink? I’ve been raiding my Pa’s cabinet.”

“Um, I can go out and- “

“He won’t mind. They called today, all sad for me. They liked Shinra.”

Shizuo sits there with a vague feeling of disquiet. Mairu and Kururi at college. Shizuo remembers them when they were six and clinging to their brother’s hands. Shinra in the past tense. 

“This thing looks pretty trendy,” Shizuo says awkwardly when Izaya comes back, gesturing at the wheelchair, but it is somehow less awkward than just ignoring it. “I was thinking you might have installed knives in it.”

“Ha! Not quite, though I have modified it significantly.” He looks at the chair for a moment, his head on one side. “It’s biggest advantage is that it makes people let their guards down. People don’t see you. They make an effort not to see you. A ten year old in a wheelchair could probably get away with murder if they knew what they were doing. It’s comfier than it looks too.”

He pours their drinks.

“To Shinra.”

Out of nowhere, Shizuo finds himself choking up.

Izaya looks at him without expression.

“You can cry if you want to. I have.”

“Maybe I’ll drink some more first.”

“Good idea.”

They drink until the room is a pleasant blur. Shizuo’s eyes get hot and wet, so he guesses he’s crying after all. 

Izaya pats his leg sympathetically.

“Maybe Celty is, like, with him somehow.”

“Yeah,” Shizuo says shakily. “Izaya, I’m really sorry.”

Izaya snorts.

“This is about Shinra, Shizu-chan. Don’t be so selfish.”

“It’s about all of us,” Shizuo says, but doesn’t press his point. He stares at Izaya, who lounges back in his wheelchair like its a couch, his legs on the coffee table. 

“They’re not tentacles,” Izaya says, seeing his stare.

“Shinra said you’d be all right if you had physio.”

“Did he,” Izaya says tonelessly.

“He would have wanted you to.”

Izaya snorts.

“I hadn’t spoke to him since I left, Shizu-chan. Not even new year’s cards.”

His voice hardens and he turns his face away. 

Some blurry drinks later and he is kissing Izaya. Kissing him and touching him until he realises what he’s doing and moves back. 

“Sorry.”

Izaya looks at him, unoffended.

“My dick’s not in a wheelchair, Shizu-chan. It's OK.”

“...I’m scared of hurting you.”

“I’ll put the brakes on,” he says, doing so. Then he  tells Shizuo where he keeps the lube, and tells him to take off his pants. It is easier with Izaya telling him what to do. 

“TellmeifIhurtyou,” Shizuo says in a rush into Izaya’s hair, who laughs and angles him in. 

The brakes, thankfully, are strong. The last thing Shizuo wants to do is break something else of Izaya’s. 

It’s better than it has any right to be, and it’s all Shizuo can do to not scoop Izaya out of the chair to fuck him with more force.

He slumps bonelessly when he’s done, out of Izaya, with his head in the informant’s lap, while Izaya strokes his hair with an uncoordinated hand. 

He wakes up with a stiff neck, still between Izaya’s legs with his head in his bare lap.

-

Izaya merely laughs when he also wakes.

“Get off me. I have to get ready for my train.”

“You’re leaving,” Shizuo says stupidly. 

“Of course I’m leaving.”

Shizuo’s head is killing him. He eases himself off the bed and tries to wake up while Izaya’s in the shower. Maybe it’s for the best. He takes their empty bottles out to the recylcing chutes, wipes the coffee table, straightens chairs. 

“Thanks,” Izaya says when he’s back. “You can shower. I’ll make toast.”

Shizuo showers. His dick twitches vaguely at the thought of Izaya’s naked body in here moments ago, but his heart isn’t in it. 

The silence is heavy over their tea. Izaya’s suitcase is packed and ready in the middle of the room, the wheelchair folded and ready. Izaya must have shipped it to his sisters in advance. 

“What about your sisters?” Shizuo says lamely.

Izaya blinks at him.

“They know I’m leaving today.”

He checks his watch.

Taking the hint, Shizuo helps his Izaya with his things, and gets into the cab beside him without being asked. He sits there feeling numb. He’d barely processed Shinra being dead, let alone Celty leaving, let alone Izaya’s return, and as for last night...And the fact that Izaya’s leaving again. 

Next thing he knows he is in front of the station with the driver unloading Izaya’s things, and then they are alone.

“Don’t go.”

He says it quietly enough, but Izaya still hears. The informant gives a humourless little laugh. 

“Come on Shizu-chan, this isn’t a romcom.”

He says nothing.

“You’re upset. You’re hungover. You’ll feel better once I’ve gone.”

He gives Shizuo’s arm a little pat. They hadn’t kissed last night, hadn’t so much as hugged. Shizuo should do something. Instead he says,

“Do you need help getting on the train?”

“No. The staff are expecting me.”

He smirks at Shizuo’s being a soft touch, but his eyes are sad.

“Bye, Shizu-chan.”

He takes his case and wheelchair frame into the station. He’s barely taken a few steps when a uniformed man rushes forward to help him. Shizuo watches them disappear.

-

In first class, Izaya watches Ikebukuro pull away with a collapsed feeling in his chest. It feels wrong to leave Shinra behind. He closes his eyes, and doesn’t open them until he has to.

Being home feels like entering a different dimension. He pays his driver to haul his stuff inside, and takes a moment to wipe his eyes. He stiffens mid-gesture, feeling eyes on him. He looks up as a biker weaves through the carpark towards him.

“Celty?”

She stands in front of him, motionless, and her pain hits him even though she doesn’t have a face to express it.

“Shizuo’s really worried about you,” he blurts.

_ -You saw Shizuo? _

“Yes. We didn’t fight,” he says, truthfully enough.

_ -I need to talk to you. _

“Sure. Want to come in?”

He’s glad when her helmet shakes from side to side. He automatically associates her with Shinra, and his eyes keep welling up. He watches her type away.

_ -I made a mistake with Shinra. I pushed him away for a long time, and it was such a waste when we could have been happy together. _

“I’m sorry,” he says, when she seems to expect some sort of response. “You realiseyou’re sort of doing the same thing with Shizuo now, don’t you? He needs you.”

_ -I needed time to think. Anyway, I’m not here about me and Shizuo. I’m here about you and Shizuo. _

Izaya swallows. He’d avoid her eyes if she had any. 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

_ -There’s something between you and Shizuo. I don’t know how it is or how it got there, but everyone knows about it - including me and Shinra, and probably including the both of you too. I think you should go back again and try to talk to him. Believe me, it’ll hurt more to not try. _

He stares at her screen, heart hammering. Then he smiles weakly.

“Come on, Celty. I never had you down as one of the ShizuoxIzaya fan club. And anyway, this is hardly fair; Shizuo would much rather see you again, not me.”

_ -I’ll only go back if you go back. _

She’s bluffing. She must be. She wouldn’t abandon Shizuo for good. And regardless, Izaya didn’t want to go back. Did he?

_ -Think about it. I’ll be around if you want to talk. _

She leaves, and a moment later he hears an engine kick to life and roar away. Izaya finally goes up to his apartment. He thought he would feel better being home, but the conversation with Celty leaves him with a feeling of disquiet.

He makes himself an iced tea and takes his chair over to the window, to watch the sun set on the waves. Beautiful. Far more beautiful than Shinjuku or Ikebukuro.

His phone rings, distracting him. He blinks, and smiles.

“Shiki-san. Missing me already?”

“Just making sure you kept your side of our deal.”

“Of course. I was out of there by our agreed time.” 

Izaya waits him out. 

“You remember what we discussed?” Shiki says casually. “You’ll of course want some time to grieve, but there may be some work for you afterwards if you want it.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s a possibility. You’ll have to spend some time in Ikebukuro, of course.”

Izaya makes an interested noise, indicating for Shiki to continue. He slips his free hand into his waistband, fingering the bruises Shizuo had left, and smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry Shinra :'(


End file.
